Monday, June 19, 2006

Indignities

In my life as a witness to the mass catharsis of live music, I have:

--almost lost my then-teenage brother to a faulty folding chair at an Iron Maiden concert-- dodged spit actually aimed at Joan Jett-- had my Swiss Army knife confiscated at hip hop shows at Tramps (RIP) in NYC-- stood for a half hour watching a roving chorus of men shouting "show us your tits" hone in on various "willing" victims at a Metallica-Slipknot double bill-- wished I had a surgical mask to ward off the dust, like the kids did, at Warped Tour-- waded through sewage-scented mud at the Guinness Fleadh-- been the only person in the room to not "hold hands for Jesus" at a Kirk Franklin revival-- propped my eyes open until nearly 7 a.m. at an all-night raga concert-- been covered in beer by Allman Brothers fans-- watched a middle-aged couple have sex in public while Lucinda Williams played-- been told by a totally trashed cast member of my favorite TV show, Oz, that I had better give his friend Schooly D a good review-- lost at least a quarter of my hearing

And yet the other night represented a low. Yes, friends: I have had my eye nearly gouged out by a margarita-fueled woman's cowboy hat at a Kenny Chesney show.

~ I have almost lost my 10-year-old sister when people standing on benches caused a massive tip-over at a ‘65 Stones concert (my mom wouldn’t let me go unless I took sis, thinking that would thwart any strange inhalations or whatnot

~ dodged spit actually coming out of Eddie Vedder!

~ was advised by the door security to bury my Swiss Army knife in the bushes outside the Key Arena when going in to see Tool. Yeah, I dug it up after.

~ was at the first Vancouver Be-In where free tit-watching occurred spontaneously as groovy tanned chicks ignored all would-be gawkers, and appreciated the sidelong glances of the cooler guys

~ wished I’d had my own glasses at the Mothers of Invention, but Kathy and I just kept trading off using hers, though it only had one stem

~ slid around in duck-pooed sludge with bare feet at the Strawberry Mountain Music Festival, where the culture and humanhood was much more important than the music players themselves

~ been the only person in the room to not be on acid at Creedence Clearwater Revival

~ propped my eyes open after 39 hours awake in Mountainview, California, before, during, and after a Bridge School Benefit concert with the Who

~ been covered in Strawberry Cream Wine when June found an unopened bottle in a parking lot and decided to “bless” us all

~ watched a rockin’ couple have front to back sex at a Mudhoney concert, but that was even before the show started, for the entertainment of friends and audience members alike

~ was asked by a Mod of a certain message board to do a review of a huge grunge band’s show (well, the more friendly folks you have reviewing your shit, the better, I guess)

~ lost at least a quarter ounce of hash

~ I have nearly been impaled by a fuck-me heeled, Jaeger-fuelled groupie as happy-handed, testosteroned mosh-pitsters lifted her in groping victory, like some kind of living trophy, proving at once that they were thinking with their “little” heads and demonstrating their herd mentality

~ was nearly run over by a Black Maria carrying none other than Sir Paul McCartney and Mr. Ringo Starr ~ why didn’t Ringo get a knighthood, for frig’s sake? He worked hard to entertain children all round the world narrating that adorable Thomas the Tank Engine show in the 80's, and Sir Paul didn’t get his boring children’s book “High in the Clouds” (ahem!) published until 20 years after! We won’t mention “We All Stand Together” as his first foray into children’s entertainment, will we? Of course, I was only 11 when the Beatles stole my heart, so perhaps they always were in the business of entertaining children, in a way.. Yes, I think Maureen Starkey was like 16, Cynthia Lennon was 19, Jane Asher was 17, Patti Boyd was 19

~ got into the VIP lounge, drank, ate, schmoozed, peed in the porta-potty where no doubt some famous bums had sat earlier, and escaped before anyone could say “Who the fuck are you?”

~ sat in the car with the James Cotton band - they had no dressing rooms - right before they went onstage; it was the first time I knew that touring was far from glamorous

~ watched a guy pee into his beer cup and carefully place it under his seat so he didn’t miss one moment of Metallica’s Snake Pit Tour

~ same concert saw Lars calling the audience pussies when the lights came up because they still wanted to play after 3 hours and people were leaving (he no doubt forgets that sitters are paid by the hour)

~ read a lot of rock critics’ writing and always wished that had been me..

~ discovered over all that course of time that all you really do need is LOVE